On Monday, the first truly gorgeous day of spring, the kids and I went to visit a local farm.  They (and probably every other kid around here) call it “Eggs Farm” but it’s really called Flamig Farm.  For two hours, I was able to indulge in the fantasy that we lived on a farm.  (Well, how about a farm of just happiness and good times and fuzzy, cuddly animals that don’t end up on our dinner table.  I did say it was a fantasy.)

 

IMG_7466

Yeah, that’d be the reason they call it “Eggs Farm.”
photo credit JSeiderer

 

This little piglet is named Lucky.  He is two days old and he’s an adorable (and noisy!) little thing, but he was named Lucky for a reason; he is the only one of his litter to survive.  Apparently his mama pig is young and not experienced in how to care for piglets.  The staff member referred to her as a “teen mom.”  Maybe she’ll get her own exploitative reality show.

 

IMG_7291

Lonely Lucky.
photo credit JSeiderer

IMG_7398

That’s Teen Mom on the left.
photo credit JSeiderer

 

Look, I realize my kids will never be farm kids.  They’ll most likely never muck out a stall, ride on top of a pickup truck filled with bales of hay, or risk being pecked in the face by a chicken.  Now that I think about it, I was never really a farm kid yet I did those things.  I grew up in a very small town but we did have a horse; I was like Pippi Longstocking, riding through town and giving all the neighborhood kids a ride.  I spent lots of time on farms and have the chicken-peck scar to prove it.  Aside from trips like this to Flamig, the closest my kids are going to get to farm life is reading “Charlotte’s Web.”  I think Flamig and other local farms offer camps in the summer so maybe I will pay to have my kids experience stall-mucking after all.  (ASIDE:  As I was working on this post, this article came across my desk:  “The Hygiene Hypothesis: Exploring the Connection Between Allergies and an Agrarian Lifestyle.”  According to Mother Earth Living, studies have shown that children who grow up on farms have fewer allergies than those who don’t.  Hmmm . . .END OF ASIDE)

 

IMG_7330

Look Mama, I found the Easter Bunny!
photo credit JSeiderer

 

IMG_7343

Ewww, I got licked by a sheep.
photo credit JSeiderer

 

IMG_7365

Llama llama, where is Mama?
photo credit JSeiderer

IMG_7448

Fun with goats and ponies
photo credit JSeiderer

IMG_7437

Goatman, meet Batman.
photo credit JSeiderer

IMG_7434

Stalking a duck.
Photo credit JSeiderer

IMG_7433

I rescued the duck before it had a heart attack.
photo credit JSeiderer

IMG_7316

Did I tell you my fantasy involves an old pickup like this, me wearing overalls, and lots of barn cats around? No??
photo credit JSeiderer

 

The boys got dirty.  By “dirty” I don’t just mean dirt, either; the following lines may or may not have been uttered at one point:  “Look, pieces of chocolate to feed the goats!”  “Uh, guys, that’s not chocolate . . . DROP IT IMMEDIATELY!”  They were licked by an assortment of four-legged creatures.  They fell down.  They got back up.  They fell down again.  There were some tears.  They got bitten by a piglet.  They fell into a pricker bush.  They spent more time playing in the “bus” (farm trolley) than they did playing with the real live animals.  They said, “I wanna go home!”  They refused to go home.  They said they wanted a piglet, a chicken, five dogs and five cats to take home.  All in all, a fun farm afternoon.

IMG_7414

Big’s cheesy smile at the end of the farm visit.
photo credit JSeiderer

 

IMG_7416

Little’s still working on his camera smirk.
photo credit JSeiderer

IMG_7465

So long, sleepy little piglet. Hope you stay lucky.
photo credit JSeiderer

 

 

Leave Some Comment Love